


Footnotes and Feelings

by supreme_genius



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supreme_genius/pseuds/supreme_genius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a tiny little footnote in a certain tome - that maybe isn't so tiny - makes Nick consider how he really feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Footnotes and Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Grimm or make any money from this.  
> This is unbeta'd.  
> There is more to come.
> 
> Also, sorry for any weird spacing or formatting. I'm currently working with Open Office rather than Word and am not used to it yet.

It's just after midnight and Nick's eyes burn as he stares at the book, trying to focus on finding what he needs. Unable to focus, he shuts the book and lays back on the bed. Next to him, laying on the other pillow, is the tome on blutbaden. He pretty much knows all he needs to about them, considering his best friend _is_ a blutbad, and if he ever has any questions, he just goes to Monroe. But sometimes Nick flips through it. He adds little footnotes, and scribbles in the margins. He wants his predecessors to know that not all wesen are bad and can make pretty good allies and even friends.

 

Nick picks up the book and flips through. He pretty much knows everything that's in it, but occasionally he'll find something new. When he comes across a little section he added about Monroe, he smiles. Monroe hadn't exactly been too fond of being put in the tome, but when he read what Nick wrote about their friendship – trust, loyalty, etc – he became more-than-okay with it. Nick keeps flipping until he finds a little scribbled note at the bottom of one of the pages about two-thirds of the way through. As he reads the words, his eyes practically bulge out of his head.

 

_While in their human appearance, blutbaden look like any other person for the most part. However, the male blutbaden are generally more endowed._

 

He swallows hard. His cheeks begin to turn a bright shade of red as he fights to keep a certain blutbad and his _endowment_ out of his mind. But it's no use. Nick can't help but think about what Monroe's hiding in those khaki pants. He slams the book shut and tosses it aside. The beating of his heart is fast and loud; it's deafening inside his head. His palms are getting sweaty and his pants are becoming uncomfortably tight.

 

No, Nick certainly does _not_ have a crush on Monroe. Monroe is his best friend; his understanding, comforting, warmhearted, strangely fascinating, loyal best friend. And he certainly isn't into plaid ( _but it suits him_ ) or flannel ( _well, it_ is _warm and soft_ ) or beards ( _I wonder what it feels like against bare skin_ ). He never thinks about what Monroe's big, strong, meticulous hands could do. He certainly never thinks about a sweaty blutbad moving back and forth on a pilates machine. Nick never wanted to curl up next to Monroe in bed or wrap his arms around Monroe's waist and hug him after a close call. Nope. No way. Never. Not even once. Except he does, even if he won't admit it, even to himself.

 

After a couple deep breaths, Nick adjusts himself and heads home. The emptiness of his apartment doesn't help; it just makes his mind wander farther. _What if I make a move? What if Monroe is okay with it? But what if he isn't? What if he feels the same? What if he's scared, too? Oh shit. No. Come on, Nick. Don't be an idiot. Monroe is your friend and that's it. You're gonna have to be okay with it. Friend is better than nothing, right? Right?_

 

All the thoughts bouncing around Nick's head just depress him. He's been alone for too long and maybe that's his problem. Nick figures that maybe since Monroe is the person he spends the most time with outside of work, that his little crush (the size of Oregon) is just a natural reaction. _Monroe is a great guy, how could you not like him?_

 

Nick falls asleep thinking about Monroe and wakes up doing exactly the same. Before he even gets out of bed, he grabs his phone off the nightstand and texts his best friend. He asks Monroe if he can swing by the trailer around one and help him look through some of the books; he also promises a dozen from VooDoo and an Americano. Nick lays in bed until he gets a reply. Monroe agrees and it puts a grin on Nick's face. When Nick finally rolls out of bed, he spends longer than usual getting ready. He makes sure his hair looks good and he puts on his nicer jeans. He decides to pull on the sweater Monroe got for him last Christmas and the cleanest pair of boots he has. After taking far longer than he should have to get ready, he has to skip stopping for coffee and head straight to work.

 

Of course, for Nick, it feels like the day drags on. He and Hank aren't coming up with any leads and mostly just work on paperwork. Finally Nick looks up and it's 12:30. He smiles and jumps up from his desk, clocking out and heading to pick up the doughnuts and coffee. It's almost 1:00 when he pulls up in front of the trailer and Monroe pulls in right behind him. The two are half-way through the box of doughnuts before they even crack open book.

 

“So you said your victim has his throat ripped out?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Haven't you thought it might be a blutbad?”

 

Nick frowns, disappointed that he hadn't thought of it. “Well, I...uh...I guess I didn't want to assume.” He shifts uneasily in the chair.

 

Monroe rolls his eyes. “Why do you think I'm going to be offended. Yeah, I'm a blutbad. But we're not exactly saints. I know that.”

 

Nick nods, unsure what to say.

 

Monroe turns his attention back to the tome in front of him. He flips through the pages and smiles when he sees his name. “You know, man, I'm kind of getting used to seeing me in here. It's kind of, uh, cool.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Monroe holds up the book and points at his name. “I think you should draw me.” Monroe grins ear to ear, sets the book down, and leans back in the bed. “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

 

Nick's jaw drops, releasing a flood of coffee all over one of the books. “Fuck. Ugh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He scrambles to mop up the spillage with whatever napkins he can grab. He glares at Monroe who's laughing so hard there are tears rolling down his cheeks. “Shut up, Monroe.”

 

Monroe's eyes bulge and tries to stifle the rest of his laughter. “Oh, come on. It's funny.” With a roll of his eyes, he turns back to the tome and flips a few more pages. “Wow, there are a lot of footnotes in here. Are all of them like this?”

 

“What?” Nick looks up, finally managing to get his mess cleaned up.

 

“There are notes and scribbles all over. Like right here.” He points to the side of the page and cocks his head to the side. “A weider blutbad is more likely to return to his or her gruesome nature when surrounded by other blutbaden.”

 

 _Shit!_ Nick knows that Monroe is getting close to the note on blutbaden endowment. Wanting to avoid a potentially awkward moment, Nick walks over to the bed and grabs the book. “Oh, look at that.” He pretends to be surprised by the note.

 

“Dude, I was reading that.” Monroe reaches for the book but Nick yanks it away.

 

“You're a blutbad, Monroe. What could you possibly need to know?”

 

Monroe shrugs. “Well, it's interesting to see myself from a different perspective.

 

_Yeah, I'd like a different perspective, too. What? Shit._

 

“You okay, Nick? You look kind of sweaty.”

 

“Yeah. Fine. It's just, uh, the sweater. It's kind of hot.”

 

“Hey. I got you that sweater, didn't I?”

 

“Yeah. Last Christmas.”

 

“I thought it looked familiar. Why don't you wear it?”

 

“Uh, because it's hot.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“So. I've got to get back to work. Let me know if you come up with anything.” Nick walks towards the door, tome still in hand.

 

“Uh, Nick?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Might be a good idea to leave that here.”

 

Nick notices the book. “Oh yeah. Probably.” He shoves it up on a shelf. “Are you staying here?”

 

“Well, I figured since you've got to get back to work, I would. Maybe do a little reading. See what I can find out.”

 

“Oh okay.”

 

“Are you trying to kick me out?”

 

“What? No. It's fine. I'll, uh, see you later.”

 

Nick walks out, shutting the door behind himself. He thinks of a million different situations on his way back to work. _But what's so wrong with him seeing it? He'll probably just laugh it off and make some joke about a grimm getting close enough to know. It's not like he'll just whip it out and prove it's true. Maybe he won't even see it. Why am I even making a big deal?_

 

Nick spends the rest of his day at work finishing up his paperwork and getting distracted by thoughts of Monroe and the footnote. He hates that he's acting like this; he feels pathetic. Briefly he considers asking Hank for advice, but he knows that he shouldn't be too quick to say anything. So he keeps his thoughts to himself. They relentlessly rattle around inside his head until he's finally able to escape the precinct and head home.

 

Nick is on his way home when he gets stuck in traffic. As his car inches down the block, he finds himself approaching the road to Monroe's house. He's eyes dart back and forth between the road and the cars in front of him. There is a blue sedan slowly passing by him. As it passes, Nick notices the bumper sticker on the back. _All roads lead home_. That's all it takes. Nick flips on his blinker and turns down the road. He might as well have a bumper sticker on his car that says _all roads lead to Monroe_.

 

As he pulls up in front of Monroe's house, he, once again, feels pathetic. He was starting to believe that he couldn't function without Monroe in his life and he doesn't like that; he's not that kind of person, or so he thinks. But as he walks up to the door, into the house, and sees Monroe, it doesn't matter. Because yes, all roads _do_ lead home, to Monroe.

**Author's Note:**

> And a big thanks to Peya_Luna who helped me come up with this idea.  
> It started as the footnote but then got away from me.


End file.
